Inkheart, but better
by Zombies8Me
Summary: The fourth in the Zombies8Me legacy...which means it's the best thing you'll ever read.


Finally, the...fourth(?) in my 'but better' collection.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Inkheart.

_Warning!_

Following may contain product placement and jokes you won't get if you've never seen The Matrix or Eagle Eye . . . yeah.

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Meggie Folchart was feeling unhappy because she had nothing to do since it was dark, and she couldn't read in the dark because fire hadn't been invented yet. "Gosh. It's too bad my mother disappeared when my dad was reading some boring story about some boring thing that I can't be bothered to remember, and my dad does nothing but bind books all day. Gee. I wish something exciting would happen to me."

Suddenly a giant inferno appeared outside, and a very angry voice screamed, "Mortimer! You jerk! Open the [edited for language because Dustfinger has a bad mouth and I want people under the age of 21 to read this too] so you'll have to [_bleep_] sideways! …[_Bleeeep!_]"

"Yeah you and what army?" Meggie's father yelled, sticking his head out the window. It appeared he was drunk, because he stunk of beer, had beer stains all over his shirt, beer cans all over the floor beside him, and was drinking another beer. Probably drinking away the memory of reading Meggie's mumzie into a book, thus cursing her to a life where she does not get to be a main character.

"Open the stinkin' door before I burn your house down!" the blond person with scars on his face and a mouth rated NC-17 yelled with spite.

Mo spat at him. "Fine. But only if you brought me a present!" He had a lisp when he was drunk, by the way.

"How about this. Open the door, and I'll burn your house down."

"That doesn't sound like a very good idea." He reasoned.

"Fine. Open the door, and I'll burn your house down, but only after I leave."

"Uh, okay! That's much better!" he smiled, running downstairs to open the door.

"Gosh. My dad is an idiot." Meggie sighed.

Five minutes later, when she went down stairs for her annual snack of pickles, Mo told her they were packing to leave again. "But…why?" Meggie asked.

"So I can be a bartender in the Simpsons. Get it? Moe and Mo! So it's funny because—"

Dustfinger slapped him over the head, setting his hair on fire with his magic powers.

"Ow! Fine. We're going to go to your great-aunt's house so Dustfinger can betray us, hand us over to this really ugly messed up guy named Capricorn, who had imprisoned your mute mother as a maid, meet an Arabian guy along the way who will win your heart and bash it on the ground because he likes Dustfinger better. Oh, and we'll probably end up meeting the author, whose really old, a guy with the reading capacity of a blind monkey with one leg and a learning disability, and a guy named Basta, whose kind of a jerk and will probably give you nightmares for the rest of your young life! Doesn't that sound like fun?" he said with a smile, skipping to the door.

"Well, I sort of ignored the last part, and the middle part and the most of the first part, because I was staring at the thing from Dustfinger pocket, that's trying to eat my left arm." Meggie looked down at the rabid ferret-monkey-rabbit-ferret-ostrich-opossum-ferret-squirrel-leprechaun-ferret. It's evil eyes were an evil red with evilness and was very evil looking. "It kind of looks like it could be the cause for a main character's demise," she observed.

Dustfinger laughed. "Ha ha! That's ridiculous! What, did you go to stupid camp or something?"

"Yeah Meggie! Where were you when they passed out brains?" Mo laughed.

"Shut up Mortimer!" Dustfinger yelled.

"Sorry. Wait, no I'm not! Everyone knows that in the last book _I'm_ the one who [edited because Mo is dumb and enjoys trying to make himself look better with spoilers.] And that will be the day, when I emerge from the ashes of boring book-binder-dumb to be the next…wait, what was I talking about? Meggie! Pack up the vodka, we're leaving this freakish dump!" he raised a victorious hand over his head. "I am sick of the squirrels eating holes in all of my roofs! And I say, _enough_!" Over his head, the hole the squirrels had made, which we patched up with silly-string and cheerios, fell, covering him with rabid squirrels. "Darn you karma! Meggie! Call animal control! They are eating my face!"

"Ha. I do love to see Mortimer squealing in pain from hundreds of squirrel bites, but the story isn't going to go anywhere like this." And Dustfinger lit the squirrels (and Mo) on fire, getting himself sued for animal cruelty.

They got in the dork-mobile, and drove until Mo passed out, and the car went off a cliff. So they bought a new car, gave Mo a few shots of Adrenaline and Espresso into his blood stream, and were off again after he stopped screaming Disney songs. So they drove and drove…and drove, and drove. Right when the book—I mean drive—was getting so mind-numbingly boring that Dustfinger started lighting him self on fire to see how long he could burn before he passed out, or burned to death, they reached Elinor's house.

Dustfinger quickly got out, jumped into a pond to put out the fire, then started burning Elinor's house down. "Hello, Basta?" He flipped open the cell phone he conveniently had. "I have the main characters. Come here and take them please! The really old one, Mo, is driving me crazy with his insistent 'your momma' jokes…please…just kill me! Or _him_. Yeah, preferably him. Kill him, that's a good idea, what a great idea, huh?" he chatted into his cell phone.

"Hey! Dad! The pyromaniac is betraying us again!" Meggie yelled, jumping up and down, pointing to him.

"Ah, quit your whining." Dustfinger shot a fireball at her. "_Daddy! The fire manipulating psychopath is giving away our hiding place! Punish him!_" He made his voice high and whiny like Meggie's.

"Dad! He just tried to kill me!"

"Shh! Daddy is having a hangover sweetie. So shut up…unkay?" his head was on the dashboard, humming the tune from Opera. He was drooling all over it.

"But dad!"

"A hangover love. Do you know what hangover means?"

"Yeah, it means you're drunk, but that's not important right now—"

"No. It means I was drunk _yesterday._"

"But, but dad!"

"Don't make me get up, or I'll just go all _freaky_ on you. And trust me, that is not going to be, what you are going to be wanting. Remember the last time I went all freaky?"

"Dad! This is actually important—"

"And when I went all freaky, I wasn't very happy, now was I little girl?"

"Yeah dad, you totaled five cars and got both of us sent to jail for a month."

"Hey! Shut up! If I want the opinion of a little annoying girl, I will ask for it. But I don't, because you are what we call stupid. Do you know what stupid means? It means there aren't going to be, any strange people showing up on the spur of the moment just because you think that—"

"Are you Mo?" Basta appeared with all his friends, who immediately made up a drug stand disguised as Lemon Aide.

"Maybe. Are you a gorgeous women who has not yet been captured by an evil tyrant?" He waved his hand around, pointing his finger, not even looking up.

Basta grabbed his face, and slapped it. "WAKE-UP PEOPLE!"

**Zombies8Me is sponsored in part by Pepsi Max. It's Max-ilious, and owns more monopolies than Starbucks or McDonald's.**

"Hey! What is that bold thing doing in my story? It's messing it all up! That is shameless product placement," Mo wailed. "You can't do that!" he bellowed into the sky, waving his fist.

Basta stared at Mo with cold unfeeling eyes, slapping him on the head again.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Could have had a V8!"

**Zombies8Me is sponsored in part by V8 juice. Finally, a more disgusting party beverage than kerosene!**

Basta grabbed him by the collar, and tossed him, with his non-existent muscles, into the back of the car. "Come on you idiots. The little girl isn't going to buy and drugs," Basta yelled at them.

Meggie had her arms full of empty bags the drugs had been in. "Drugs? You told me it was powder sugar!" she cried, going into cardiac arrest.

"Oops. That's not going to go over well with my supervisor." Basta swallowed the mint he was chewing, taking another handful. "Ew! This isn't mint! What is this?"

"It's myth, can't you read you big headed buffoon," Flatnose asked, with his big, dumb, ugly face.

"How would you like to be dead? Come on sparky," he yelled at Dustfinger, who cringed away from the mint-chewing weirdy with the knife. He stuck the knife right in Dustfingers face and purred like the demon feline he really was meant to be, "Dustfinger…_why so serious?_"

"Now you're stealing lines from movies? That's lame." Meggie groaned, coming up off the ground from her fit of violent spasms.

"You're lame." Basta purred like a kitty-cat, but a very _evil_ and _scary_ kitty-cat.

"Your mom's lame!" Flatnose barked to Meggie, with his big, dumb, ugly face.

"Your mom's face is lame!" Mo, the idiot, neighed.

"Your mom's dead," Meggie replied, as snarky as a dolphin.

"Dang it." Basta whined when he couldn't think of anything else to say, slamming the door and driving off…well kind of driving off, because they crashed into an old lady's car, a few school buses, a taxi, a biker, a few dogs, and into a pole. So they called Geico for a new car on the go!

**Zombies8Me is sponsored in part by Geico. The most Aussie, animated, geckos, anywhere! (We think.)**

"I swear, if there is one more lame product placement/advertisement in the middle of a heart-stopping scene, I am going to go all _freaky_ on all of you!" Mo yodeled in pain (which most people don't do), when the car was picked up by a crane, and thrown down the side of a hill.

"That was random." Flatnose's nose was bleeding, along with his big, dumb, ugly face.

Dustfinger's phone rang, and Basta turned to glare, so did Mo, and his goonies, and Flatnose with his big, dumb, ugly face. "What?"

"You're ring-tone is 'Hot N' Cold?'" he asked with evil kitty-cat meowing.

Dustfinger ignored him, answering his phone. "Hello?"

"Five seconds Jerry." A women's voice said.

"Five seconds till what? And my name isn't Jerry"

"Five seconds until the cops swarm into your apartment and arrest you for being a terrorist. You have been activated Jerry. Do not disobey again, or you will be—"

"Hang on I have another call coming through. Hello?"

"Can you hear me now?" A man asked.

"…Yes…?"

"_Good_. Can you hear me now?"

"…Um, yes? But I'm confused who are you?"

"_Good_. Can you hear me now?"

"…Yes. Is this another joke?"

"_Good_. Can you hear me now?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"_Good_. Can you hear me now?"

"Yeah, uh, bye." He tried to hang-up, when he got another call. Of course the signal was perfect, because he had Verizon wireless.

**Zombies8Me is sponsored in part by Verizon Wireless.**

"That's it! I'm gone!" Mo tried to jump out the window, hitting the locked doors, falling unconscious on the floor.

"I don't think that's very good for his brain…" Flatnose pointed with his big, dumb, ugly face.

"Hello?" Dustfinger answered.

"I know you're out there." A man said huskily.

"Um, what?"

"I'm going to show these people something you don't want them to see."

"Okay! Okay! I'll cooperate. If you have that picture of me from last New Year's, I can explain! See, alcohol is a very powerful thing!" The other's in the car were staring at him with blank expressions.

"I'm going to show them a world without you."

"Wha-? Are you threatening me?"

"A world without bonds, a world without—"

"Yeah, uh, I'm hanging up now."

"A world where anything is possible."

"Sounds great, goodbye!" he closed the phone, throwing it out the window.

"Who was that?" Basta asked, picking his teeth with his knife.

"Some weirdos." He shrugged.

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This is only part one, and I'll probably write more, but review please! I read all the reviews and messages I get, and try to make my stuff better, but I can't actually do that if you don't review. So, yeah. **Review you mute people!**

Edited by Poseida Lunar

~Zombies8Me~

copyright Zombies8Me 2009


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